Still Here
by not a zatarc
Summary: Post X2. Logan has a little talk about Jean, with someone you wouldn't expect. And no, it's not Scott. smirks Please Review


**Disclaimer:** I don't own the X-Men. *cries and gets comforted by muse* x_0;;   
**Summary:** Post X2. Logan has a little talk about Jean, with someone you wouldn't expect. And no, it's not Scott. *smirks*   
**Note:** The lyrics in this fic are from _'Stand Here With Me'_ by Creed.   
  
**Still Here**   
  
*****   


The room was dark, with an equally dark and shadowed grim figure on the couch of the mansion's rec room. The only indication that the figure was actually a living person, was the sounds of slow heavy breathing and the rhythmic sloshing of liquid inside a near empty bottle of alcohol that sounded every once in a while.

Taking in a deep breath, the small, pajama-clad figure watching from just outside the rec room gained enough courage to cautiously approach the mansion's resident brooder.

  
  
*****   


Tilting his head back for another swig of liquor, Logan gulped down the vile tasting drink, letting it burn it's way down his throat. He sighed deeply, flaring his nostrils and belatedly realizing that he wasn't the only one in the room at this late hour. Logan knew that it wasn't the Jones kid that never slept, only because the boy had taken off to watch tv elsewhere when he caught sight of Wolverine in his viewing spot. 

Curious to know who was there, Logan glared to his left side as the uninvited guest made their way to the couch and plopped down on the opposite side. Recognizing the child as the young boy he'd carried back to the X-Jet from Alkali Lake about a week earlier, Logan forced himself to soften his expression a bit. "What's yer name kid?" he mumbled, staring at the boy.

"Artie." he replied quietly, watching Logan with innocent curiousity. 

Logan's thoughts of being nice were drowned out as he grumbled a gruff, "What the hell're you doin' up so damn late?" 

Artie shrugged simply, his fear of being chewed out by the Wolverine slowly dwindling at the pained look in the older man's eyes. "I came to talk to _you_."

Surprised at the boy's responce, Logan straighted from his slouch and set his near-empty whiskey bottle down on the table in front of the couch. He raised an eyebrow, not quite knowing what to say right away. Letting out a long breath, he finally asked, "Why?"

Artie ran a hand through his messy black hair, then tugged idly at one of the sleaves of his bug-printed pajama shirt. Swiping a hand across his nose with a shrug, he kept an even gaze with the intimidating Logan. "Because." Artie began with a long pause. He remembered clearly sitting in the X-Jet at Alkali Lake and watching as Logan broke down when Jean was washed away beneath the waters from the burst dam. "You really miss her don't you?"

Logan frowned, though Artie's calm presence did impress him. He closed his eyes as memories of Jean dying flashed beneath closed eyelids, involuntarily flinching at the painful emotions that were brought back even more strongly than those he'd been feeling the last few days. "Yeh." Logan managed to choke out, not even having to ask who the boy was talking about. 

As if he hadn't realized what he'd just said, Logan growled lowly, snatching the whiskey bottle off the table and finishing it off. "Why the hell does it matter ta you kid?" he rumbled angrily, glaring at the innocent Artie with watery eyes.

"You saved me. And the others." the boy replied without blinking. "You're not the same anymore, since she died. You're _different_, and you always sit here at night in the dark and just...be _sad_."

Logan sighed, then stared off to the side, collecting what the wise young boy had just said. He knew there was truth to the innocent words, and he felt as though his heart was breaking all over again, watching Jean die and being unable to do anything about it. Logan looked up, meeting Artie's never flinching gaze. "_What_, jus' 'cuz I carried ya back to the jet ya think you owe me or somethin' kid?"

Artie got silent for a brief moment, watching the shadowed eyes of the man sitting on the opposite side of the couch. He regained his voice, slightly bowing his head with a bashful, "Kinda." he scrunched up his face a little with a half smile and tilted his head to the side. "Miss Grey loved you, but not the way she loved Mr. Summers."

Logan sighed heavily, hunching over and burying his face in his hands. Standing up quickly and knocking the empty whiskey bottle off the table, he grunted loudly and his face contorted in anger, but Logan was obviously hurt from what was said. It wasn't the fact that Artie had noticed his infatuation with Jean, but that he also knew that Logan wasn't Jean's choice. "It doesn't matter anymore. She's dead kid. Jean's **dead**!" he growled loudly, pacing for a moment in front of the couch.

"Yeh," Artie's face remained emotionless as he stood, "and _you're_ still here Mr. Logan. Don't forget that." turning away from the man, the young boy smiled to himself, knowing that he had to have done some good with the little talk. Even if all it did was stir something inside Logan and make him angry. Atleast that showed he was alive on the inside.

Logan stared on in either shock, confusion, awe, or all of the above, as he watched Artie disappear from the dark room, leaving him with his thoughts. He stood there, no longer pacing and realizing the boy had to have been wise way beyond his years, especially to get to the mighty Wolverine the way he did. Artie was right, he was still here, and he couldn't forget that. He couldn't let his soul die, no matter how tortured it was. Jean wouldn't want that to happen. Even though she wasn't there physically, she was there with Logan, and she'd taught him how to live, that he had to live on. He would thrive on her memory, and be himself because of it.

Glancing down with a small smile and a nod to himself, Logan made his way out of the dark room. He wouldn't return at nights any longer to drink whiskey in an attempt to forget, he wouldn't brood about his loss, he would live on, and for the first time since Jean's death, he would drift off into a guiltless sleep. 

All this, thanks to a young boy who cared.

  
  


*****   
  
_You always reached out to me and helped me believe   
All those memories we share   
I will cherish every one of them   
The truth of it is there's a right way to live   
And you showed me   
So now you live on in the words of a song   
You're a melody   
  
'Cause you stand here with me now_   
  
*******The End*******


End file.
